The Death Eaters Go Marching One By One, Hoorah!
by Elaine Dawkins
Summary: Alternate ending to J.K. Rowling's series "Harry Potter".


_A deep shadowed appeared, blocking the light streaming in. It was above his head. A rubber canopy of ridges filled with mud and turf. All was still and his life was flashing before his eyes - at least, the bad parts were._

Perhaps, this is not the best time to mention that this was the last thing he saw. Well, seeing as it is the beginning of the story, but it is a place to begin. You probably have heard it told that the Dark Lord was defeated by Harry Potter? That Harry dueled with him and won? What a lie. This is what REALLY happened:

"I can't do it!" Draco is feeling peeved and more than a little tense. His face is red and his knuckles are white with fury. "These vanishing cabinets just can't be fixed!" he drops his wand onto the ground in anger. After this, he jumps up and down in a rage and, lastly, makes an indention into the wall plaster with his fist.

Pansy sits, huddled by herself in a corner of the room. She now dares to fold her arms and shake her head, "You must." She is cut short as Draco twirls around to glare at her.

"I know that! Don't you think I know that?!!"

"You're stressing."

"Grrr!!!" he clinches his teeth and begins to kick the cabinet.

"Why not stop for the night and go to bed?" Pansy urges him with a voice so soft and quiet that he feels he must give in. Why can't she be just as upset as he is?

Draco gives one last blow to the cabinet and then covers his eyes with his hands. "Alright," he says, with resentment.

"You might come up with something in the morning," Pansy is never one to give up very easily. "You're tired; of course you can't think of anything."

"You better be right," Draco snarls. He walks to the door and pauses, "You coming or what?"

Pansy rises, straightens her cloak, and walks over to him.

"You make me angry."

She raises her eyebrows at that. "I make you angry?" she opens her eyes wide now, making a seemingly-innocent display of her light brown eyes.

"Yeah…. recently."

"How?"

"By asking stupid questions," his only reply.

Pansy smiles sweetly, "In other words: I drive you mad?"

"Maybe..," he pauses in thought. "Naw, I was wrong. You just bother me."

"Ok."

"Shut up!"

They go to their separate dorm rooms, Pansy ecstatic, Draco still peeved.

Draco lies awake in bed, unable to sleep even though he is exhausted. He stares up at the canopy of his four-poster. He tries to count sheep in his head, but stops after a bit because, he concludes, it is a stupid activity.

He rolls over and rubs his eyes. He lets his left leg drop off the bed. His big toe touches the cold flooring and he quickly pulls his foot back underneath the covers. He turns over to face the other side of the room. There is the big picture-window. The moon is shining; in fact, it is in his face. Bright, round, and blinding. Draco yanks the covers up over his face. The air is stifling, but it makes him feel better than he has felt in a long time. Supposing he suffocates… then it would all be over.

Surprisingly, a few moments later, the sun is up and his alarm is ringing in his ears. Draco moans and wonders when he had fallen asleep - it seemed to take forever, but then, he does not remember doing anything but laying there, listening to Goyle's snoring from the next bed.

He stumbles out of bed and trips on a pair of fuzzy slippers. THUD! He is on his stomach. He groans, curses Goyle's stupidity, and looks about for an instant. He is in the perfect position, now, to have a clear view of the space under Goyle's bed. There, dwelling with the dust-bunnies, is a half-eaten apple. Draco, not unaware that fate is now at work, picks it up and looks at it. It's turning mushy and brown. It's also filled with maggots and covered in ants.

Draco, suddenly feels a rush of adrenaline. He jumps to his feet, grabs his robe and heads to the owlery. Once there, he pens a quick letter and sends it off. Now, he can go down to breakfast in peace.

The letter is received, in Little Hangleton, an hour later by Wormtail. He is curious; begins to finger the envelope, but is instantly stopped by the Dark Lord.

"Do you know what the penalty is for reading other peoples' mail, Wormtail?"

That puts an end to that. Voldemort takes the letter and, going into a room and locking the door, reads it in private.

There is cold laughter later, for the message is quite hilarious. Bellatrix, who is never too far off these days, comes running and begins rapping at the door with fervor.

"Come on in!" the laughter is still heard as he yells through the door.

"Sir, I was wondering - what's so funny?" she pokes her head in, her hair flying in all directions; a hairstyle that makes Voldemort melt, makes him feel warm and fuzzy - why? He would never admit why.

His red eyes are glimmering with pleasure at her appearance, "Nothing, just a possible change in plan. Go gather the others; we need to assemble for a meeting."

Draco is surprised when, the next day, a package is delivered to him at breakfast. It is fairly small and thin. It is stamped all over with 'This end up' and 'Fragile: handle with care' stickers.

He covertly brings it up to the dorm room. Crabbe and Goyle gather around him as he pulls away the clear, heavy-duty tape. Draco opens the lid and there it is: a small, green ant farm. Black ants (thirty-seven in all) are scurrying about in the dirt and sand. And, just to add a bid of whimsy, there is one red ant among the throng.

Crabbe and Goyle are disappointed. They sigh and begin to mumble to themselves.

Draco's face is beaming. He tells them to just follow his lead.

"You might as well wait for the show. No use in me giving away the plot," he grins.

Next, he heads up to the entryway of the castle, ant farm in hand. Crabbe and Goyle follow, glancing stupidly at each other as they ascend the staircase and leave the dungeons behind them.

Draco is just going to open the green lid, when Harry comes walking over.

Draco hates Harry. H. Potter wears dorky glasses and thinks he's something terrific. He is nosey and this is the worst time for him to come nosing over.

"You have an ant farm?" he questions, while sliding his glasses back up on his nose. Typical Potter action.

Draco's face turns magenta in embarrassment. "Sure, Potter. What's it to you?" he looks H. Potter straight in the eyes.

Harry swallows. "What are you doing with them?" he is not smiling. He fingers his messy, black hair and balances on one foot.

Now, to make the situation worse, a bunch of girls walk over. Draco, knows that he had better do what he has set out to do. He, unceremoniously, dumps the ant farm onto the floor.

"EEEWWWW" squeal the girls. "Ants, Ants, ANTS!!!"

Harry is shocked. He covers his mouth with his hand. "What are you doing?!" he asks, forgetting that he had already asked that question. What an idiot!

"Just letting them loose, Potter. Just ruining your day."

The group of girls have, by now, attracted several of the teachers and about half the school. Professor Snape is among those gathered. His dark eyes glance quickly about. He remembers the meeting. Why Voldemort had agreed to this mode of transportation is beyond him. He pulls out his wand and shoots a spell at Draco. Draco, in turn, freezes in place, his mouth still shaped in a grin. The ants scatter.

Dumbledore raises his voice, "Let the stomping begin!"

The students rush out and begin to stomp about. Any onlooker would suspected a hoe-down, but this is business.

"Where's the red ant? Harry, look for the red ant and kill it!" Dumbledore yells.

Harry scrambles around on the floor. The other students accidently kick him as he crawls around. There are many 'Sorry Harry!'s and 'Excuse me!'s before Harry is able to find the allusive red ant.

It is scrambling for the door, legs flying. Harry stomps on it once with his shoe. It sits there on the floor, a bit shaken, but still alive. Harry screws up all his courage and aims a perfectly good blow.

STOMP!!!!

That's the end of the Dark Lord.


End file.
